An Iraqi journalist in America: Finally … Red Lobster

Most
of the Iraqi refugees who recently arrived in America were shocked by the
economic situation here. I was prepared. I knew about the difficulties of
finding a job in America,
and I knew I could count on assistance from the American government through my
status as a journalist with The New York Times. Even so, it was
surprising to find how hard life could be here.

In Iraq,
I worked in almost everything: restaurants, factories, construction, and
grocery stores, and, most recently after
the invasion, as an interpreter and journalist using my skills in the English
language. I never had to fill out a single application for any of those jobs. Nor
did I have to pay taxes to the government; Iraq does not have an income tax.

I also had to get accustomed to the American
system of finding a job by filling out applications and sharpening my resume to
compete with the hordes of job seekers. It was easier for me to search for jobs
online. In Iraq,
they still use the old ways of hiring through acquaintances or advertisements.
Job ads still appear in newspapers or on TV but not on the Web.

I learned there was a downside to applying for
jobs online. Day after day, I would browse the job sites, e-mail an application
and a resume, and wait for a reply. I did this over and over with every
possible position, but didn’t get any responses. One day, that changed. A woman
called me in response to an application saying that she worked for a communications
network or a company that sells telecommunication equipment. She said she wanted to meet me at a Starbucks
to discuss a position. “Starbucks?” I thought to myself. “Why not in the
company office? Maybe it’s the style here in America.”

I immediately called my “American dad,” Lew
Serviss, and happily told him that somebody was interested in my resume and
might offer me a job, but that I needed a ride to the appointment. He heard my intense
interest but warned of swindlers who cheat people who are looking for jobs. He
said he had found information on the Web indicating the woman’s organization
was shady, but I was so excited to have an interview that I wasn’t really
listening. I was trying to focus on the meeting.

The encounter turned out just as Lew had warned
me. The nice young woman met me at Starbucks, but was distracted by the people
waiting for me outside—Lew and two Iraqi friends. She was really
confused and asked about them. There was another guy standing behind our table
who apparently was with her, watching; he left after couple of minutes. Nothing
was mentioned about the position or the job itself. I finished the meeting as quickly as possible because I felt really
dumb. I never applied for a job online after that.

I was starting to get frustrated about my new
life in America
because four months had gone by and I was still without a job. Just then, I
received a call from the job developer at the International Rescue Committee,
the resettlement agency that was sponsoring me. He told me that there was a new Red Lobster
opening soon in Tuscon and that I should go there to apply for a job. All I knew about
this restaurant was that its specialty was seafood. There aren’t really any
similar restaurants in Iraq
except in one province in the south located on the sea.

I set my
car’s GPS for the address and headed out with some other refugees who were also
looking for jobs. The drive took 30 minutes, and I was already getting
disappointed about the possibility of not getting a job at this place.

As I stepped into the restaurant, I was
astonished by the huge number of applicants who were there. Dozens of
people; some were waiting in the parking lot, some were filling the seats
inside, and many other were in the line for applications. It was just like
afflicted people right after a disaster.

I began to believe that I had no chance with
all those people around because I was just a refugee.

I was wrong.

I was the last person approved for a job that day.
I went through two interviews and a test and I did well—not because of my
previous experience working in restaurants, but because of what I had learned from
working in Iraq,
surviving the war and the occupation there. The tough circumstances of Iraq had taught
me a lot, and I’m grateful for it. The manager who accepted my
application and hired me was impressed with my quick response to his answers.
"I gotta give you a job today," he said as he was nodding his head
and reading through the lines of my application about my previous jobs.

I have found a job and I'm working now. But
there is an endless chain of worries—American concerns far different from the
ones I had in Iraq.
My parents and younger brother are going to be joining me as refugees. It seems
that I need another new Red Lobster to earn a living for my coming family.

Mudhafar al-Husseini worked at The New York TimesinBaghdadfor two years, reporting news stories and writing blog entries as well as acting as a fixer and translator for other reporters. Before that, from 2004 to 2006, he was a translator for theU.S. Army inIraq. He graduated fromBaghdadUniversityin 2007 with a degree in English literature. Now living in the United States, he is updating us on this new chapter in his life.